"I will be forever indebted to your blog, and to Colin's "Treasure Chest" - boy, when you need that thing, you really need it!"--author with offer in hand

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Sunday Purrfection

Mitzi

All my pets have been rescues, and although she's a purebred Ragdoll, Mitzi is also a rescue of sorts. The lady down the street died and willed her to me. When she first came, Mitzi wouldn't eat. At first we thought it was grief, but then a consulting vet diagnosed small-cell lymphoma. Luckily this is one of the most treatable forms of feline cancer and after a year of oral chemo she was right as rain. She's fifteen years old now, in her third year of remission and rules the household with a velvet paw. What would you not do for this beautiful face?

I'm off reading today so here's a picture of Mitzi instead! (Thanks to Cathy for providing!)

Ragdolls are gorgeous. All of our pups and kitties are rescues of one sort or another. Three dogs and a cat were left to us when my mother-in-law passed. I tried to find a home for the cat as we already had several and one didn't like any of the others. Every time someone would come to take a look at Petey he was nowhere to be found. The last night we spent cleaning out her house Petey jumped in the car, crawled into an open box and said "Let's go." Much to our surprise, our warrior kitty took one look at him, said "Whatever" and left him alone. We think MIL and St. Francis worked together on that one.

So back to packing - giving a boatload of furniture and such to Habitat for Humanity. Trying to decide what's useful and what is trash. Old plates and glasses? Coffee makers and ancient microwaves. Will those be useful? I can't decide. I will box them and ask when they come to pick up I guess :/

Thank you for sharing Mitzi's story. Recently, my 15 year old tabby was diagnosed with small cell lymphoma. He was down to about 5.5lbs and this was a big boy. Probably 15-18lbs. He's been on chemo for about a month now and has gained about 3lbs back. He's puking about once or twice a week rather than 3-5 times a day.

Cynthia's is also a testimony to grace and just what is supposed to be.

Our last purebred Aussie was one we called Pepper San Badger, Badger. Peppy San Badger is a famous cutting horse and her registered named was Pepper something. Badger belonged to the neighbors, but she kept running away and showing up on our doorstep. The neighbor finally gave up and asked if we wanted her so we bought her.

She nearly grieved herself to death when Chili Pepper, our old Aussie died, but we finally got her to eat.

I said I'd never have another dog when I had to put Badger down due to cancer, but lo and behold I have Gage the Wonder Dog, a rescue Aussie.

That's one very lovely lady, Cathy. Makes me want to rub that patch of velvet between the eyes.

All of our felines have been rescues too, though I don't have any stories as charming as Cynthia's.

Our latest two are ferals from our backyard. Sachiko is the only survivor of a litter--her mother was probably too young to be having kittens. We literally snatched her off the street, and that night we heard a coyote howling around the house for hours. (And yes, we did a TNR for the mother.)

Rufus, the Formerly Feral Feline, had been hanging our place for several years before he showed up with one side of his face swollen to amazingly horrifying proportions. He had no objections to being loaded into a carrier, though he wasn't too crazy about the vet's office. Long story short, he recovered from the abscess, is dealing with having had all of his teeth pulled, and is slowly being integrated with the rest of our crew. He's got a lovely purr and an inexhaustible fondness for tummy rubs.

My own dogs have been rescues, as well. I've only had two dogs of my own, but I've fostered a number for a local rescue. In fact, Little Girl Dog was a 'failed' foster. She came to stay. But I was pretty sure that was going to be the case when I first heard about a Shih Tzu cross who needed fostering.

I'll save you the long stories about my dogs and fostering dogs and a couple of cats, because as it is, I'll be well over wordcount here. But I did write them all out, just to get them written down. :)

EM: They might just take them all, go through them later, then junk the ones they don't want themselves. That would probably save you from taking them to the dump yourself. If your H4H is like ours in Regina, they probably sell these items in their 'Re-store' to raise money for building materials and such. Most of the labour is provided by volunteers and by the person who will be getting the house, but they still need to get new building materials so the houses they build are up to code.

A friend of mine got a house through them. She cried when she was accepted - a single mother, living in the worst part of a bad area, trying to raise her son and keep him out of gangs and out of trouble. H4H was the only way she'd be able to afford a down payment for a house - with H4H, they put in a certain number of hours of labour, which becomes their down payment. They can get friends and family and anyone, really, to help out putting in that labour. Her mother worked in the Re-store for awhile, as part of the hours. My friend also provided meals, as part of the hours she put in - sandwiches, even chili and anything she could carry to the folks on the site. She still has a mortgage on the house that she pays through H4H, but it's lower than a mortgage through a bank would be. And a mortgage payment is easier to pay than a down payment, especially when rental prices are going through the roof. She is so happy in her house.

It's so heartwarming to connect with other animal lovers. And I'm uplifted to read all your stories of rescuing. Truly meaningful.

Last fall, I found two emaciated kittens in an abandoned house on our property. I fed them there till they'd come to me. Then I brought them up to the sanctuary with the intention of getting them healthy, neutered and all that, and finding them homes - which I've done dozens of times. But these two ended up staying. Our nine dogs and the other cats (who all live in the house and are all part of the family and all over the furniture) were perfectly accepting of them. They fit in so well - we decided why disrupt their lives? We named them Butter-Bean and Beau-Henry. I think they have some Main Coon in them, but I'm not sure. They're huge now (I just put a few photos of them on my FB page).

Happy Sunday, everyone... And Janet, I hope your retreat into reading is peaceful and productive.

I grew up in a dog family. Never cared for cats. So of course I’ve had two cats in the last 15 years.

My first cat, Poinciana, came in through my basement on a cold wet night, and stayed 8 years. She was my best friend ever.

My current cat, Brigada, as a tiny kitten jumped in my car engine in Houston and rode over 700 miles in the engine, and then spent two more days there before I figured out where her cries came from and pulled her out. She’s straddling my keyboard now, making typing this a challenge.

I would be putty in Mitzi's paws. Although Mehitabel never mastered the art of sitting in my lap while I painted, in her mid/ later years, she had a pillow on my drawing table so that she could supervise as I wrote and drew the panda cartoons, making sure that the cat to panda ratio was strictly maintained. I still miss her furry presence around the house.

I have inherited a couple of cats. Because of the baggage that goes with the honor of being trusted to inherit someone's pride and joy, you would do all you could for them, even if they were not as adorable as Mitzi.

I think all the rest of the cats we have come up with rescued us as much as we rescued them. They were and are all formerly feral cats that decided they wanted to live with us. I don't think that I have ever bought a cat, paid for many, but never bought one.

When my kids were little and we moved to a small town for my new job, a feral mother gave birth to 3 kitties in the swirl of dried autumn leaves in one corner of our patio (the back of our hillside house). We live trapped them and the kids each picked out a kitty for their pet. Mama went to live with a humane-society woman who adored her furry friends. The two kitties we raised were so precious. Midnight loved to chase and fetch little balls for us. And Smoky was a silky-furred people-snuggler.

The Fabulous Blog Readers

Search This Blog

Chum Bucket! (click Gossamer for info)

The 411

I'm a literary agent in NYC. I specialize in crime fiction and narrative non-fiction (history and biography.) I'll be glad to receive a query letter from you; guidelines to help you decide if I'm looking for what you write are below.
There are several posts labelled "query pitfalls" and "annoy me" that may help you avoid some common mistakes when querying.